Monday 8 August 2022

Day 81 - Saturday 31 May 2003 - Chesil Visitors' Centre to Portesham

 11 miles walked today

869.5 miles walked in total (10.73 average)

The alarm went off at six and, after a mini snooze and breakfast, we were off for the day to Dorset.  It was Andy's suggestion to walk with me instead of going fishing and I must admit I've been trying to talk him out of it, right up until last night.

My "bible" said my next scheduled day was a fifteen mile "moderate" walk around Portland, but the day after that was an "easy" ten miles along the Fleet, the lagoon behind Chesil Beach to Abbotsbury.  This swung my decision to walk out of sequence for the first and, hopefully, only time.  So, today, we were off to the Swannery at Abbotsbury and I'll do Portland the next time I walk at the end of June.

We parked at Chesil Beach Visitor Centre at Ferry Bridge at nine o'clock and had a quick suntan application session before walking at 9.15 am.  The path stayed true to the Fleet all day, but, unfortunately, we didn't!  We saw lots of dog walkers this morning and one lady told us that a local farmer brandishes his shotgun if he sees dogs not on leads in his cow fields.


Just past the Rifle Range at Tidmoor, the mist came in very quickly and it was very eerie walking along, with the Fleet and Chesil Beach no longer visible!  We had a couple of mini sit downs and water stops on stiles and looked at the map to find a suitable lunch stop.  We chose a hotel at Gore Cove, which turned out to be the Moonfleet Hotel, which features in the J Meade Faulkner novel, Moonfleet, first published in 1898.   However, the service was so slow that we left there and walked up a steep track to Langton Herring to the Elm Tree pub.   And that was the last we saw of Chesil Beach!

We had a pint of cider each and cheese, tomato and pickle doorstop at the pub and I noticed a sign in the pub listing the suppliers of all the produce used there, all of which were local I'm pleased to say.  I've become quite a believer in buying locally and not ploughing all my grocery funds into Tescos or Sainsburys, although Andy pointed out that there's not much local produce grown around Heathrow!

After our break, we headed up the road towards Abbotsbury.  Or so I thought.  As it turned out, I was wrong, but, being totally stubborn, wouldn't admit it.  Andy told me I should go on a navigation course, to which I took great exception.  So, for the next four miles, the only words spoken were insults or expletives.  Very childish indeed.

The road was tough though, being very busy and it had got really hot again.  As we walked into Portesham, Andy was clutching his left arm and telling me he was having a heart attack.  Luckily, we soon stumbled across the bus stop for the bus back to Weymouth.  We were at least speaking again by this time, thank goodness.

We got back to the van and drove back to Abbotsbury to the Swannery.  Andy loves swans and I really wanted to see the newly hatched cygnets with him.  We spent ages chuckling at the antics of the babies hitching lifts on their parents' backs, and the male swans fighting and protecting their territories.  A lot of the females were still nesting and we couldn't believe the size of the eggs.  I took a photo of Andy and one of the male swans, having a bit of a stand off - Andy had got far too close to the nesting female for the protective father's liking.



Andy got chatting to one of the Wardens about a "pecking order" for the swans and we were informed that one male called "the Terminator" lives at the far west of the site and never loses a cygnet.   In fact, he's so elusive that it makes feeding him difficult, as they can never find him.  I don't really think they try that hard though as apparently he's quite a violent bird and belts them with his wings!

After watching the swans for ages, we got a lift back on the cart pulled by a shire horse called Maddock, although the kids have a lot of trouble with his name and he's frequently called "Maggot".  Poor thing!

Andy's on nights again, so we'd only planned to walk one day.  He has to have a nap on Sunday afternoons, in time for work on Sunday evenings.  So we headed back to Colnbrook and a hot bath.  Just as well really as Andy's legs were throbbing.  I did point out that my legs used to ache like that when I first started walking, but they don't hurt any more.  He told me that no way was he going to be that proficient at walking that his legs didn't ache any more!

We've both learned lots today.  As we walked beside the Fleet, we could see mini sheds on Chesil Beach surrounded by tents, fishing gear and people on benches.  I was puzzled how the occupants got all their gear over in a small boat, but Andy pointed out that most of the stuff was probably stored in the sheds anyway.  Doh!

And I've explained and demonstrated the principles behind "kissing gates" although Andy said he didn't think "real" walkers were allowed the odd snog as they walked.  Far too flippant for proper outdoor types.  I told him that holding hands was perfectly acceptable too, although I'm not sure he's convinced.

Andy's also learned that carrying a rucksack makes your back sweat.  He informed me that he'd carry the rucksack all day, but soon relinquished responsibility after three miles.

It's been a really good day - we've driven two hundred and fifty-six miles and walked eleven!  And we were both so tired by the time we got home that we abandoned our plan of a Chinese takeaway and had fishcakes and beans on toast!

Faux pas of the day goes to me - inevitably.  I made friends with a dog this morning who leaned against me for a fuss.  After he bounded off, what I meant to say was "did you see he had a leg missing?"  However, what I actually said was "he's only got one leg"!   I blame it on the sun.


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